Shipmate Joy
by drarrybaby
Summary: Harry and Draco are stuck together. They cant escape confrontation, they're always near each other, always involved. Harry and Draco are difficult. Good things come, bad things never go. Harry and Draco are fighting. Fighting the winds and the storms and whatever keeps them apart. Harry and Draco are shipmates. Harry and Draco are in love.
1. Pumpkin Pasty

~Pumpkin Pasty~

Harry woke up to an excruciatingly loud assortment of bangs and sparks coming from the Weasley's living room. He could faintly make out the sound of Mrs. Weasley hollering for the twins to "shut off that racket or she'd have them skinned." One of  
their

firework displays had made its way into Harry and Ron's room, and Ron's snores would've drowned it out if the firework hadn't gone and set fire to his pillowcase. Harry let out a shout and fumbled for his wand, shooting a stream of water at Ron's  
/literally fiery hair. Ron screamed and tumbled onto the hardwood floor.

"Good morning Ronnie!" Yelped Fred, bounding into their shared room, "you enjoying our send-off? We ought to give you a proper one for your-"he snickered "eighth year."

George skipped into the room, cackling, while Ron continued to try and stuff his head under his bedsheets. Harry let out a snicker.

"Morning George, and how did you sleep last night?"

George sighed dramatically, placing a hand to his heart as if he were pining "Well enough darling, but not as well without you to keep my bed warm."

Ron began to fake sob into his hands asFred and George giggled and laughed their way out of the room.

"Harry if you keep hitting on them I swear to Merlin I WILL kick you out."

Harry rolled out of bed and began to pull on his red,Weasley-knitted socks. "Nonsense Ronnie-kins, you know your mum loves me too much."

"That she does," mumbled Ron as he crawled toward his rickety dresser, "Probably loves you morethan she loves your little boy toys right now."

As the boys pulled on their clothes for the train ride to their first day back at Hogwarts, the smell of cooking wafted up to their bedroom.

"Jesus I need _food_..." Muttered Harry as he traipsed sleepily down the long,winding stairs. His worriesabout returning to his old school crept back on him, especially ones concerning a certain blonde from the treacherous Slytherin house.  
His

fears dissipated for a moment as he collided into a frizzy-haired young woman. Hermione had definitely grown out of her childish looks, and now Ron had a really hot girlfriend. Which Harry would only care about, you know, if he actually liked

girls.

"G'morning Harry, did the wake up call reach your room today?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ginny, who fell in step along side them as they meandered towards the breakfast table. "It was rather impressive though, don't you think?" Ginny said, and Harry sat down, letting them talk. How girls were so cheerful in  
the

morning, he had no idea.

Breakfast was short, andafter the lovely fireworks fiasco,they had little time to eat and prepare. Mr. Weasley would be accompanyingthem to the station, and as they levitated their trunks across platform 9 and 3/4, Harry couldn't help  
but

grin as the wonders of the wizarding world all came rushing back to him.

"You really missed this place,huh?" Said Ginny softly, bumping her hip against his. Ever since Ron and Hermione grew closer, Ginny and Harry had become best friends. Now she instead of Ron and Hermione had to deal with Harry's piningwoes and  
/worries. Not that she minded- gossip wasindeed Ginny's life support.

As they waved goodbye to Mr. Weasley, they made their way to the very last compartment to see Luna Lovegood and Neville, snuggled up in the corner of the seat.

"Oh hello everyone," said Luna in her breezy tone "It hasbeen a while, hasn't it?"

Ron grinned "Hey Luna, it's good to see you guys."

Hermione and Ginny exchanged a knowing look and sat down on either side of Harry, leaving Ron to sit by the very... _affectionate_ couple.

"So Ginny, nice summer?"

The compartment was filled with chatter as always, about the classes and old faces, etc. Harry stepped out for air when they landed on the subject of Remus Lupin's funeral, which had occurred just a few weeks before their return to Hogwarts. He and  
Tonks

were buried alongside Sirius and Harry's parents, in Godric's Hollow. Just the thought of seeing his father's best friend, part of his family, lowered into the ground, made him sick to his Harry made his way back to the compartment

with his newfound trolley food, he was caught off guard as he collided with a tall skinny boy, and fell quite dramatically on top of him.

"Jeez Potter! Watch it, please."

Harry's head jolted at the familiar, steely voice. But it couldn't be Malfoy, because, who had heard of a Malfoy who said please?

Harry froze, unsure how to respond when an attractive, hell, downright sexy Draco Malfoy,was lying on top of him?

"Um, well, um,"

 _Jesus potter what are you doing, get a grip you blubbering hypogriff!_

"S-sorry Malfoy. My bad."

Draco looked as equally indifferent lying on top of Harry as he always did.

"S'alright."

Draco reached over Harry's shoulder, brushing his chest with his pale hands. Harry tensed, his eyes growing wide as Dracos hand moved, lightly touching Harry's toned face.

"Pumpkin Pasty?" Draco smirked and placed the treat on Harry's chest before pushing himself off, _ridiculously slowly,_ and walking, no, _strutting,_ in the opposite direction, towards his own compartment.

Harry sat up, taking slow, deep, tremoring breaths as he shook himself, wondering what the hell did Malfoy do to him.

Malfoy was practically glowing when he re-entered his slytherin compartment containing only Pansy Parkingson, and Blaise Zabini. While Blaise and Pansy were not in the least homophobic (just straight)

They could only handle Draco's ridiculous gayness in small doses. Well, Blaise anyway. Pansy listened to Draco's stories and weekly love interests like they were the most interesting things in the world. And to be truthful, most of the time they had  
been

pretty eventful. Andwhen Draco re-emerged actually smiling, Pansydid not hesitate to try and decode his

slap-happy grin.

" _Spill Draco_! What've you done? Who did you shag in a dark closet this time? Was it Longbottom? You know he's grown decently attractive and we know you have a thing for the Gryffindors,"

Draco made a face

"Pansy, please. You know that the Ravenclawsare so much more attractive. And Longbottom can't have sex, let alone good sex."

Pansy sighed "Ah yes, of course. Terry Boot is rather attractive isn't he. I remember when he was drunk and you-"

Blaise made a face

"Pansy please, I'm trying to digest chocolate here, I don't need any of Draco's sandalous sex stories, though I'm sure there are quite a few."

Draco smirked and wiggled his eyebrows "Yes, _quite_ a few."

"Well of course there was the weasley twin."

Draco tittered "Ah yes"

"Now did you do _one_ or _two?"_

Pansy cocked her head in mock contemplation

"It must've been both." Draco replied

"At the same time?"

Draco gasped dramatically

" _Pansy_ how _scandalous!_ I would never- at the same time? That situation was only reserved for those drunk Hufflepuffs, and _I_ was drunk too, soooo..."

"Draco dear, when you have sex you're always drunk."

Draco gave her a warning look, and pansy put her hands up as if in resignation, rolling her eyes

"Except for Smith." They said in unison- Draco with a reminiscent look on his face, Pansy with a look of utter disgust.

"Ah, Smith was good. Did you know that when he-"

"Okay ENOUGH."

Pansy and Draco giggled furiously, while Blaiserolled his eyes.

"You are both _sexual predators,_ you know that? Draco is a fucking sex machine."

Draco put on hisbest seductive face "you know Blaise, if you ever decide you're up for some experiments..."

Blaise stood up abruptly, a look of horror on his face, while Pansy shook in silent laughter.

"I, um, Ineed some air, I'm going to track down the trolley while you talk bad gay sex."

Pansy scooted closer to Draco as soon as Blaise shut the compartment door, glaring at him.

Draco stammered under her gaze

"W-what?! It's no biggie really..."

" _Spill."_

Draco gulped as he recounted the scene with Potter Inthe hallway. Tall, tan, sexy potter...

Pansy gave him the look.

"Aw fuck pansy no"

"Draco do you know what you just did?!"

Draco glanced at her sceptically

"I think you justseduced Harry Potter." 

**First chapter people~ idk who would possibly be reading this but I hope you enjoy**


	2. The Arrival

Harry groaned as he slumped down into his seat in the compartment, his friends looking at him in a confused manner.

"Harry mate, what's the matter?" Ron inquired skeptically. "You, uh, look a little lost in your own head."

Harry groaned and sent Ginny a blatant look. Ginny's eyes lit up and her mouth stretched into a considerable amount of shapes before saying "Oh he just ran into that slimy Slytherin in the hallway, didn't you Harry?" She threw a knowing glance at Hermione,  
who also winked at Harry before joining Ginny's circle of lies. "Yea, it's always awfully disconcerting to see Malfoy, in any context. Especially after the whole ordeal in the room of requirement."

Ron nodded as if he was completely in the know. "That's right, I had forgotten until just now. Do you reckon the thing still works? I mean with the cursed fire and all."

Harry, relievedthat another conversation had resumed in place of his awkward one, glanced at Ginny. The look she was giving him made him regret ever telling her his feelings for that stupid Draco Malfoy.

Meanwhile, Draco wasn't having the best time with Pansy either.

"But Draco, don't tell me that after so many years dedicated to chasing him down that you're only going to give up now? Can you honestly tell me you really don't have any feelings for him at all?"

Draco sent her one of his famous Malfoy stares that sent a shiver down Pansy's spine, driving her straight through the metal floor of the compartment. She just rolled her eyes back at him, perking up when she thought of something else to gossip about.

style="text-align:center;""So what do you think of the whole housing situation?"

When the train finally pulled up to the station, both Harry and Draco were immensely relieved. Pansy's unbelievable chattering was certainly a force to be reckoned with, and all the conversation of the dead and dying was making Harry increasingly  
uncomfortable. As the Golden Trio exited the Hogwarts express, Harry glanced up in awe at the castle, glad to finally be home.

It was a struggle to snatch a carriage, especially with the new amount of first years. Supposedly after Durmstrang had been more publicly associated with the dark arts and the mysterious Elder Wand, the flow of new students had been directed elsewhere.  
But despite the new first and second years, the third and fourth years were numbered at almost 20 and the upperclassmen seemingly with only 15 or so students per year. Fearful parents make small schools.

As the small group of children trudged into the great hall, many gave glances to places that a friend had been killed, or a parent or maybe even where they had committed the act of taking another's life. The sorting hat sat on a stool in the very  
center of the room, where Harry himself had faced the evilest wizard of all wizarding history. Professor McGonagall, as poised as she had been on Harry's very first day, stood to read the lengthy list of first years.

Ron could hear his stomach growl, and impatiently waited for the last name, Rose Zabini, to be called to sort. When Slytherin, the last house of the day, was called, Ron eagerly sat up and starred at the table, willing his meal to appear. But when  
no Roast Beef or treacle made an appearance, Ron gave an irritated sigh. McGonagall had stepped into the middle of the room, and pointed her wand to her throat.

"Sonorus", she whispered, her voice loud as thunder.

"Welcome Hogwarts students. Before I grant you your much anticipated feast, we have approximately 14 more sorting left."

Whispers of confusion and irritation filled the hall. McGonagall motioned for quiet. She cleared her throat, and called the first of 14 eighth years to be sorted.

"Hannah Abbott"

Murmurs filled the great hall as a nervous Hannah Abbott made her way to the sorting hat, sending her once again to Hufflepuff. The names of the following eighth years were;

Terry Boot, Cho Chang, Seamus Finnigan, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Ernie Macmillan, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter, Dean Thomas, Ron Weasley, and Blasie Zabini.

Terry Boot emerged a Slytherin. Most everyone was sure they would return to their original houses. After all, those things don't change.

Cho went to Hufflepuff. Seamus went to Gryffindor. Hermione stifled tears and faked a smile as she made her way to the Ravenclaw table. Neville gasped from the Gryffindor side as Luna skipped nonchalantly to Slytherin. Ernie greeted Hannah with a  
smile at the Hufflepuff table. Pansy gave a shriek of joy as she was pronounced a Ravenclaw, and Harry let out a sigh of relief as he reclaimed his place at the Gryffindor table. Dean reunited with Harry, as well as Ron. Blaise remained proudly  
at the Slytherin table.

Draco was partly mortified and partly annoyed when McGonagall called his name last. Doesn't that crazy bat know the alphabet? Even he was nervous- he knew where he belonged in first year, but he couldn't even call himself a Malfoy anymore. Maybe this  
was a fresh start.

McGonagall raised her eyebrow at Draco's name

" _Draco Zamia-Black_ "

Harry especially was intrigued, and yet his face remained emotionless as his godfather's name rang in his ears. Draco had no right taking that name. None.

Draco was shaking as the hat was placed snugly over his ears. Minutes went by; all though it felt like hours had passed. Finally, the hat opened its fabric flap and croaked

" _GRYFFINDOR!_ "

And Harry, though fuming and pained, couldn't help but smile.


	3. The Right Sort

The Right Sort

yo track me down on insta – 13 xox

Mutterings from the crowd ensued immediately as each new house member found a vacant seat at their table. Some were welcome, some held at arm's length to be poked and prodded, and eventually, accepted. Draco shot Pansy a forlorn look form across the room, where they both sat at the very ends of their new tables.

Harry was grateful that he had been sorted into his rightful house, but not so excited about Draco. The poor thing looked terrified, and he knew an ex-death eater, coerced or not, wouldn't last long at a table of brawny Gryffindors. Draco looked so lost, and- wait, since when did he consider his lifelong enemy as _Draco?!_

After all, maybe it was time for a change.

"Eighth years! This way!" McGonagall barked at the nervous looking group of 18 year olds. Despite Hogwarts being there home, after fighting a war in the halls it felt colder, and less welcoming. McGonagall led them through the demented halls, and up a staircase to the remodeled divination tower, now larger in size and sporting its own rooms and hallways, decorated in all 4 house colours.

"The sleeping arrangements are posted on the bulletin board," she gestured to a glowing metal board on their right. "And if you dare file a complaint due to blood status or use any other useless antics, I will see to it that the password to this tower will be completely restricted from you."

Aggravated mutters filled the common room. Harry and Ron pushed through the crowd to the gleaming board to examine their fate.

 _BOARDING LIST_

 _Granger and Parkinson_

 _Abbot and Longbottom_

 _Boot and Macmillan_

 _Lovegood and Thomas_

 _Chang and Finnigan_

 _Weasley and Zabini_

 _Black and Potter_

The names Black and Potter gave Harry a deep pang in his chest; who knew the last time those two names had been listed together. And being with Dra- erm, Malfoy- Black? Wasn't so bad. In his opinion, everyone needed a fresh start more than anything. Ron clearly agreed, as he was quick to gruffly nod and shake Blaise's hand. Most of the others did the same, greeting their roommates cautiously, if not welcomingly. Pansy and Hermione cautiously grinned and waved at each other, and Harry couldn't help but feel they would be a great pair. Now the only problem was Malfoy/Black/Draco.

Draco was relieved that he had gotten the most forgiving of the golden trio, though he wasn't sure exactly how forgiving that could be. To say that seeing Blaise and the Weasel shake hands surprised him would be an understatement, and seeing Pansy smile at Hermione made him slightly queasy- like his world was turning circles around him. But it was a pleasant queasy, like the kind you get from a deathly rollercoaster ride. Never once did he think seeing Granger would make him smile, but he was obviously corrected, Draco gingerly scanned the crowd for an individual with ebony hair and piercing green eyes, and when he saw them, he froze. Harry was gradually making his way over to Draco, and no words could cross his mind. Countless used insults or greetings, everything was gone, except for a faint memory nagging him in the back of his head.

Harry and Draco faced off, eyes boring into each others, confused and vulnerable.

Harry spoke first.

"You don't want to go around making friends with the wrong sort," he whispered.

Draco had to stifle a laugh as these words rang in his brain, and Harry cracked a smile as he continued.

"I can help you there."

Harry was on edge as he slowly stuck out his hand.

Draco took one more step forward,

and took it.

"I don't think I can tell the right sort for myself," he whispered.

Harry's emerald eyes filled with sympathy.

" _Thanks_."


	4. Worthless, Useless

Worthless, Useless

Hey y'all it's a birthday chapter from meeeee check out my insta and this chapter is majorly gloomy soooo sorry. Also a bit short… I've got my flaws. xo

Draco was nervous. He didn't know what to expect when he shared a room, no, a life, with Harry Potter, the golden boy, the chosen one. He didn't know how to share anything with anyone, for that matter.

Draco had insomnia. Isn't it usually hard to tolerate someone when they only keep you awake? Draco didn't want to keep harry awake. He didn't want those beautiful green eyes ridden with exhaustion because of him. Draco was fidgety, and twitchy, and had mood swings the size of Weasley's ego.

Draco scratched himself. He dug his fingernails into his skin until they left gaping red scars. They eventually fade, but never quite go away. Once he took a knife, a made a thin cut on his stomach, there's a pink scar there now. He's only tried to make himself throw up once, but there was nothing in his stomach to get rid of but disgust. He has excoriation disorder, and on bad days he peels entire layers of skin off the bottoms of his feet. He walks on his toes so he doesn't bloody his socks.

Draco has anxiety. Draco has had panic attacks, where he sobbed for the first time in 2 years. Draco induces nightmares. He claws himself in his sleep, and smacks himself with rubber bands when no one is watching. He can't even be depressed correctly; worthless. He writes stories where he's the main character in disguise, little pieces of him in each character, the damsel in distress saved by a hero with armor and green, sparkling eyes. He wishes that someone would see through him, through the fucking Slytherin mask he puts on every damn day. But no one cares. He's just there, and that hurts so fucking much.

Harry didn't know how to explain his bruises. They were quite possibly everywhere, on his chest and burn marks on his hands from trying not to destroy the Dursley's food, or he'd be destroyed too.

Harry has nightmares. Harry has PTSD. He runs through corridors filled with screams of the Cruciatus curse, ears bleeding from screams of innocent kids, his friends. Vernon Dursley backhands him across the face, locks him in a cupboard, and tries to drown him. Harry hates the water, and thanks to his own blood, he can't even swim.

Harry killed Fred. Harry killed Sirius. Harry killed his mum, his dad, Remus, Tonks, Moody. Teddy will never have real parents, only his murderer of a godfather; useless.

Harry killed Voldemort.

Harry raised his wand, and shot a curse at him, and he buckled to the ground, lifeless. Dead. Murdered.

The Golden Murderer.

The Corrupted One.

Nobody asks why when he stands in the light, Harry sparkles. No one sees through his glamour to hide his scars. No one asks why he's a murderer, a killer, why, why, why.

Harry fucking murdered them. Every single person in the war, who died, killed at the hands of the savior of the wizarding world.

 _Time for another all-nighter_

Harry and Draco walked peacefully to their new dormitory. The house elves had transported all of their belongings to their room, the last one at the top of the staircase. No words were exchanged, an uncomfortable silence hung heavily in the air. The password was _veritas_ , and the door creaked open eerily. Harry meandered into the green and gold room, Draco following carefully behind.

"Well," Harry blurted, "we might as well get to know one another, right?"

Draco shook his head in agreement, even though it was unnecessary. He already knew everything about Harry. But maybe it was good to learn everything over again.

Cautiously. Slowly. Carefully.

"How so?"

Draco settled himself on his silver sheets, perched on the edge of his bed like a scared songbird. Harry merely grinned sheepishly.

"It's a bit of a muggle game."

Draco pondered this for a moment.

"Alright Potter," he said lightly, "what's this muggle game you are referring too?"

Harry grinned, and they settled down to a simple game of truth or dare.

"So basically, you get to ask a question, or dare them to do something," Draco summed up. Should be interesting.

"How about we add, let's say, a more unusual twist."

Harry gave Draco an irritated look, as Draco pulled out a bottle of veritaserum.


	5. The List

Lists

Harry glared playfully at Draco. Some things never do change.

"Well then, Malfoy," Harry muttered, throwing out the boy's surname, "Let's begin, or they'll come in yelling for lights out."

The boys sat precariously on their silver and gold bedspreads. Draco took it upon himself to go first, naturally, seeing as he was the dominate one in this relationship.

He shook his head, as if trying to dismiss water from his ear; a thought from his head.

 _Draco, this is NOT a relationship. Neutral thoughts only. Get a goddamn grip…_

Draco breathed in shakily. "Truth or Dare?"

A few rounds had passed with only dares. It was, after all, safer that way. While the veritaserum may force you to complete the dare, it was less personal, less revealing. Finally, Draco, being the dominate one, struck the match.

He pretended to contemplate. "Truth."

Harry wasn't the least bit surprised; leave it to the Malfoy to make the first move.

"Why did you hate me so much?"

At first, he regrets asking the question immediately. Firstly, because for all he knew, Draco may still despise him. But there was something there; something that could quell Harry's every doubt. Harry also wasn't sure he truly wanted the answer- a spout of insults, no doubt. All of which he would agree with, being most likely true.

Draco was surprised. He didn't expect such a… upfront response on the first try. But when they strike, strike harder.

Draco opened his mouth, prepared to spew lies, but the potion turned his stomach and a blistering pain seared up his sides and into his chest cavity.

"I…"Draco stuttered, struck by the sudden pain, "Because you were real."

"What?"

Draco sighed. Was that really the most substantial thing his brain could think of?

"You treated me… like a real person. Not a rich kid, not a piece of glass, not a prize. You weren't scared of me or trying to impress me, you were just being normal." He breathed in deeply, "most people haven't done that much anymore."

Draco's eyes watered and his heart sped up as the effects of the potion withered away, finally.

He didn't miss a beat. "Truth or dare?"

Thinking it had to be fair, Harry muttered his selection under his breath.

Draco leaned forward, interested now. "Well Potter, with that weaslette as your ex-girlfriend, one would think you'd grab a new one rather quickly," he spoke airily, nonchalantly. "So many chicks swarming the one and only golden boy, why haven't you picked yourself one yet?"

Harry didn't hesitate to answer; game or not. It was only true to the game that he did respond fully, and truthfully.

He inhaled. "I'm gay."

Draco raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

Harry risked a glance at his enemy's face. No gloating, just surprise. No laughter, just curiosity.

"Fancy anyone, Potter?"

Harry gave him a skeptical glance. "What, your almost-ex-enemy tells you his biggest secret because of a stupid dose of veritaserum, and the only thing you care about is who he's got a crush on?"

Draco's eyes watered in pain. He won't lie, it's just picking a less truthful answer. The words threatened to rise to his lips, but he bit them back down.

 _i love you_

 _i was hoping you'd fancy me_

 _i'm gay too_

 _i love you_

Draco tightened his hands into fists, blood threatening to spill where his fingernails met light skin.

"What kind of ex-enemy would I be if I didn't care, Harry?"

Harry cracked a smile that healed all the pain in Draco's firepit of a heart.

The lights finally flickered out around eleven, but Harry was already sleeping. Draco couldn't, obviously. It's either deal with nightmares ot insomnia, neither had much appeal. Usual making lists in his head would soothe him, like recitations and rhymes do with smaller children. It's what he would do in first year, too sick of home to write to them, but to homesick to sleep.

He tried listing apologies. Composing them in his head, to Weasley, Granger, some of the Gryffindors, maybe a few Ravenclaws he's screwed… literally and figuratively of course.

Of course this just built up anxiety. Except for Terry Boot, now that would be an interesting experience. And if by experience you mean quick shag in a broom closet, then, well. Still interesting.

He tried lists of scandals. This had usually kept him awake trying to remember the unimportants and laughing at the interestings. He really was certain it had been both the Weasley twins, though through a drunken haze it's hard to be sure. He then wondered about what Harry and Ron could possibly be doing behind closed doors, but sex with the weasel wasn't something to sleep on. Even with Harry as a party involved.

He thought about the resorting, the glee in Pansy's eyes as she entered the house where she really belonged. A quick question to Harry had revealed his apparent house predicament during first year- Potter, a Slytherin? Doubtful. He himself had always been complacent towards Ravenclaw, and there was no way he would ever end up in Gryffindor. Too cowardly. Nor was he kind enough for Hufflepuff, now that would go over smoothly with his family.

He moved on to more trifling subjects. Such as the object of Harry Potter's affection, the apple of his eye, yada yada. Of all the resorted eight years, only Blaise, Boot, and himself. Finnigan was decently attractive, Thomas partially so. Given that Blaise was a Slytherin, Boot was a rival quidditch player, and Thomas and Finnigan were practically brothers to Potter, Draco didn't see Potter liking any eighth years.

There were some attractive seventh years, of course, and maybe sixth years? But then again, isn't that practically rape? Who knows how low Potter might stoop…

It could always be that his lover was at a different school, but this wasn't likely. Draco could only struggle with ideas as he drifted off into his fitful sleep, too distracted to notice Potter's silent, haunting nightmares in the bed next to him.


	6. Lovely Eyes and Happy Memories

As Draco sleepily made his way down to breakfast, rubbing his eyes, he continued to allow the list of people to circle in his mind.

Hooking up with people was Draco's concept, it was his thing. The throw away quickies in broom closets, hundreds of silencing charms cast behind library shelves, you name it, he'd done it.

Not until this very moment .This was completely different, Now, Draco was, for the first time, doing something he'd never done before. He had butterflies tickling him, his breathe quickened, his vitals spinning out of control, proving him alive.

Until this very moment in his life, Draco had considered the possibility that he was aromantic. Despite the excitement of sex, he never had felt before. He had, in a way, never lived before.

This was exciting. But it was horrifying.

Harry sat down a few seats away from Draco. Gryffindors were buzzing about; what to do. Obviously the fact that he belonged in Gryffindor was important, but they couldn't make anything of it. Gryffindors will, Harry knew, become more interested in you the further you go to prove yourself. It obviously was the opposite with Slytherins. The less you cared, the better you were treated.

Harry snuck a nervous glance in Draco's direction, to find his cold eyes were tinted with warmth at the edges. He was talking to… Hermione? Dear god she was smiling… If it weren't for Ron's looming glare in their direction, Harry would be worried, but Ron would jump in if trouble started- no doubt causing trouble himself.

Harry was exhausted. The nightmares that had haunted him had shaken him awake multiple times, and his silent torture kept him that way.

He had killed so many people. He was responsible, personally responsible, for deaths of family, of friends, of his own parents. It was his fault Ginny had almost died, and that Sirius wasn't here to be happy anymore. He had endangered Ron and Hermione's lives so many times… Was it even worth it? Was he even worth it?

Draco was worth it. God, crushing on him was worth it. His face was flushed and he couldn't breathe, his stomach constricted and his throat was blocked up with words he never spoke, he was dying.

He loved it.

Draco was having slight troubles adjusting. He had no idea Gryffindors could talk this much… And the _smiling_ … They were so unrealistically cheerful it hurt his mouth just to look at them.

But Harry made him smile. He had blown up another cauldron today… Gryffindors are really awful at potions.

Harry and Draco awkwardly met eyes as they made their way into the DADA classroom, leaving Draco a bit queasy. The professor was a tall woman with a name that had flown right over Draco's head; he was too busy contemplating the colour of Harry's eyes.

The classes had consisted of the fourteen eight years, and it's no wonder they had been by themselves- it seems the only magic any of them knew were jinxes and curses and unforgivables.

"Now everyone pair up, we'll start the lesson."

Draco choked on his own breathe as he franticly searched around the room. A partner? That's a joke. If only he-

"Hey Draco, work with me?"

Once again Draco had to make an effort not to choke or trip or do something embarrassing. Harry Potter? Partners, in a class about defense against the DARK ARTS, for goodness sake. This has really been a day.

Harry and Draco made their way to the back of the room.

"What are we even doing?" Draco hissed to him as he pretended to listen to the teacher drone.

"Patronuses," Harry muttered.

"Oh goody."

Draco and Harry faced each other, listening to the curses and cries of irritation from their classmates. Draco of course couldn't call a happy memory to mind. God this was infuriating. Nobody mattered to him, nothing had happened, except maybe-

Draco closed his eyes and focused on green. Green eyes, ebony hair, red banners at quidditch games. A swirl of blue and silver smoke appeared, hovering until it seemed to evaporate.

"Nice one Draco." Harry breathed in, and closed his eyes.

He searched for memories of Ginny, Sirius, Ron and Hermione.

He heard screams.

He saw death. He was, death.

"Expecto Patronum!"

His voice cracked, red sparks flew from his wand. Nobody spoke, they all starred.

The professor cleared her throat, "Class dismissed. Mr. Potter, a word?"

Students slowly trickled out, Draco leaving with a sad smile towards Harry.

Harry's red eyes struggled to stay open through the professor's lecture. His breath was ragged, dizzy, seeing double.

"Mr. Potter, it seems…"

Harry jerked his head. "Yea?"

The woman sighed. "Sometimes, events… important ones, in our lives, are classified by the section of your brain that allows you to do magic as dangerous; or evil. These memories could cause your magic to rebound, or physically harm you when they are repeated. Certain spells may have different tolls on your body, and on very rare occasions…"

"Professor?"

"Sometimes they cannot be performed."

Harry sighed. "So this means?"

The professor inhaled sharply, and averted her eyes from his.

"Harry, you don't have enough happy memories in your life," she said apologetically, "your past, your entire life story…"

Harry could feel the screams vibrating in his chest, the pain, the failure, the death. It was _in_ him, it _ruins_ him.

"You can't create a corporeal patronus."


	7. Black

Draco could feel his heart pounding in his chest, vibrating in his ears. His ears were pressed against the door and turning red, as he struggled to hear the hushed voices on the other side. Clocks went off signaling the start of a new class, but Draco didn't care. Harry's happy memories were… gone. Just, vanished? Up and left the poor thing, without a patronus, without some of his _magic_.

Footsteps made their way towards the door, and Draco scrambled to his next class. With a quick utter of a charm, he was out of sight.

Harry heaved silent sobs in the bathroom, an invisibility cloak shielding him from sight, and removed his glitter and glamour. He pinched at a scar lightly, reminding himself, keeping himself awake. He knew he was late, and honestly he couldn't remember a time when he cared less.

His eyes were dull and glassy in the dirty bathroom mirror. He had to remind himself that he was important to people. He couldn't quit. Bad days were not allowed, he couldn't cry, ever. No emotions other that indifference, cheerfulness maybe, He was a figurehead, an idol in the wizarding world. He was happy.

He was happy.

Harry wiped his face and silently strolled out of the bathroom. Harry Potter was composed. Harry Potter was happy. Harry Potter casually and confidently made his way to transfiguration.

Draco was twisting his fingers in his lap, the heat of the greenhouse only adding to his discomfort. At these times, he felt less than confident, plagued by his twisted feelings for the boy who lived. He thought of his newly adopted name; It certainly made a lot of sense. Draco Zamia-Black. Zamia, a Latin word. Translation? Loss. Complete, utter loss. Draco never really had a family, and taking his mother's name made him feel closer to her, and to Harry, whether he would admit it or not.

Draco had seen Harry's face when he heard the name 'Black' echo in the great hall. He saw the pain on Harry's face, but his heart soared when Harry smiled, at Draco, and his entrance to Gryffindor.

Draco was going to give that boy a motherfucking happy memory. Whether he liked it or not.

He was getting sweaty and uncomfortable inside the heated greenhouse, even more so as Pansy made her way towards his table and plant. The red and black thing growled quietly, and Draco couldn't help but agree. He could not keep a secret to save his life.

"Draco darling… how was DADA?" Pansy purred, grinning. "See Potter very often?"

Draco cleared his throat. "Erm, we were partners?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Is that a question? And why exactly were you so late to class anyway?"

Draco's temperature increased. Uh oh.

"Um. Bathroom? For an extended period of time?"

"Who'd you shag."

Draco sputtered nervously. "Um, well. What?

"Come on Draco, you're sweating, blushing, and have been thinking since we got here. So? Who. Good or bad?"

Draco thought a lie. Quickly.

"Smith again. Said he… I dunno, was pissed at his girlfriend or something. Pathetic. It was decent, better that anything Potter and I will do, seeing as he's not-"

Fuck. Potter was _gay._

Pansy chimed in, "yea, not gay. Shame, isn't it? Well dear, poor Luna isn't coping with Blaise very well, so I'm gonna just go over there… Bye!"

Oh, she knew.

Draco lapsed into thought again, trying to think of happy memories of his own.


End file.
